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captaingalileo · 4 years ago

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you know that trope where person a is having a really hard time and person b spends time with them to calm them down at night and they are about to leave so person a can get some sleep but person a grabs their hand and asks them to stay. you know that trope. but it’s nalby in the glade

this was supposed to be like. 200 words. the all-consuming love for pre-thomas glade dynamics hit me and now it's 2.3k. god help me.

Alby tries to tell himself it’s just habit that brings him to the Map Room at the same time every day, not some kind of ritual or anything. Surely it’s normal to hate a break in routine, to feel just a little off-balance when something requires his attention and he doesn’t arrive in time to walk to dinner with the Runners.

All the Runners. Definitely not one particular Runner. The second-in-command shouldn’t be playing favorites.

He’s been late the last couple days, tasked with shuttling the new Greenie around when Nick needs to attend to other things, but the kid has attached himself to a group of the Builders to the point where Alby feels like he can leave him for a while (and thank god for that, honestly, because he’s one of the ones that talks all the time when he’s nervous).

He watches the Runners file out of the Map Room one by one, but Minho comes out last and locks the door and there’s still one missing.

“Where’s—“ Alby starts, but Minho cuts him off before he can even get the question out.

“Finished his map early and headed off. He’s been weird all day.”

“Why?”

Minho shrugs. “Fuck if I know, dude. You know how hard it is to get answers out of that guy when he doesn't want to talk? Might work for you, though.”

There are a hell of a lot of implications there, a lot of observations he’s made that Alby hadn’t noticed him making, but Minho isn’t in charge of the Runners for no reason. Talking to him is easier once you remember that, as much as he sometimes makes it hard.

“I’ll try,” Alby says, and sets off to find Newt.

Newt’s not in the first place he looks, which is probably good because that particular spot behind the Homestead is where Alby had found the wreckage of him one time in the early days, a time bad enough that they just don’t speak of it. He’s not in the gardens either, and as Alby treks back across the Glade to head towards the trees, he curses Newt’s tendency to vanish when he’s upset. It could be worse; he’s not picking fights or breaking shit or any of the other, more destructive coping mechanisms Alby’s seen, but since the anxiety doesn’t go away until he finds Newt, he wishes Newt was a little less opposed to being found.

Alby finally finds him just past the area where most of the Gladers sleep, half in the woods but not quite. He’s brought his sleeping bag with him as well, as though he expects to stay there until morning, as though he thinks his wouldn’t be one of the most visible absences possible for the rest of the evening. He’s staring up at the trees, flat on his back and face still a little red, and when Alby comes to sit next to him he turns his head and pushes himself up into a sitting position, but doesn’t say anything.

Newt’s an odd creature sometimes. Alby knows him better than anyone else, but there are still times when he’s not sure if the best thing to do is get him to talk or leave him alone. Maybe this time the right thing to do is not to talk, but with every second the quiet feels more and more like a weight pressing down, and Alby breaks.

“What’s going on?”

Newt won’t look at him for a moment, just at his own hands, but then he seems to come to some kind of decision and makes eye contact. “I don’t think there’s a way out of here,” he says, and then everything spills out of him like bile or blood. “I think Minho thinks the same thing, he just doesn’t want to admit it. And that feels bad all the time but it feels worse when there’s a new Greenie, because it’s bad enough that there’s another kid stuck here with us, but then we’re supposed to give them hope. They find out about the Runners and they get told we’re looking for a way out, and they start to think it’s actually possible.”

And that…. well. Alby doesn’t begin to know what to say to that. “Are you sure it’s not?”

“I mean, no, I can’t say with absolute certainty or anything, but... it just repeats. I think we’ve found everything we’re gonna find.”

Alby doesn’t really do optimism—he’s not as much of a pessimist as Newt is sometimes, more of a realist if anything—but he can’t let that linger, can’t even look directly at it for too long.

“So you don’t know for sure. Which means it might all be fine, and maybe tomorrow one of you will figure out something new, and we’ll all get out of here.”

“It’s not that bloody simple,” Newt snaps, and Alby bites back a retort, because he’s fucking trying, okay?

Instead he just says, “I know. Just... trying to help.”

Newt sighs. “Yeah, sorry. That wasn’t fair. Been a bad day, that’s all. Bad couple days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t the one who put us here. Unless I’m missing something, in which case you might want to admit to it now while I’m too tired to kill you.” And sure, it’s almost all a joke, but Alby can’t help but feel like it’s a little bit true. For all that Newt is kind, for as much as he cares about every single person in the Glade, or maybe because of all those things, he has a hatred for the Creators like nothing else Alby’s ever seen from him.

Still, he’s pretty sure he’s safe from that kind of threat, or at least as safe as someone with no recollection of their past can be, so he says, “Not as far as I know.”

Newt’s quiet for a minute, and then he says, “What if it was one of us?”

“Why would we put ourselves here if it was?”

Newt shrugs. “I guess.”

He falls silent after that, and this time Alby lets him stay that way, at least for a while. Eventually, though, he checks his watch and realizes they can’t wait any longer if they want to eat, and starving isn’t exactly going to do Newt’s mood any good.

“Alright, you need to eat before dinner’s over. And shower, and then you can continue staring at nothing if you really want.”

“That genius for planning is why you’re second-in-command, huh?” Newt says with an asymmetrical smile, and Alby says, “Sure,” because sometimes Nick’s justifications for it don’t make a lot of sense to him either.

He gets to his feet and turns to pull Newt up with him, and they head for dinner. Frypan gives them a look for being late, and Minho spares a glance, eyes flicking from Newt to Alby before he nods just a little, but no one says anything about the way they arrive after everyone and as a matched set. They’ve all just got enough of their own problems, maybe. A lot of eyes still on the Greenie, too.

After dinner and showers and Alby spending the whole walk back fighting the urge to tuck the chunk of hair that’s fallen out of Newt’s mess of a bun back into place, they end up in the same spot, mostly hidden from where the rest of the Gladers are setting up for the night.

This time, Alby chooses the second option. He waits to see if Newt will talk, and when he doesn’t, he leaves the silence alone. It’s not a comfortable emptiness, not when everything Newt had said earlier still lingers, but pushing any further seems like it might hurt more than mend.

That’s one possible answer, at least. Another is that he’s scared to lean too hard on whatever it is between them for fear that it might break. A third is that he’s afraid of all the things that Newt might say. So he waits, and he hopes that his presence is any kind of reassurance.

Eventually, though, night starts to set in and he can’t justify keeping Newt awake any longer. He goes to stand up, but Newt’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist and good god, Alby sometimes forgets how fast he can move.

“Don’t leave.” Newt says, and Alby shakes his head.

“You should get some rest. Don’t want you running the Maze tired tomorrow.”

Newt says, “You being here doesn’t prevent me from resting,” which is true, sure, but not something Alby had been ready to assume. You don’t set up for the night in the middle of the woods if you want company, at least not in his own experience of things, but if Newt wants him to stay, what other choice can he make?

“Can I at least go get my own sleeping bag?”

Newt’s fingers uncurl in response, and Alby gently tugs his wrist away, going to collect his things. On the way back he runs into Nick, making the rounds before bed, which is a thing Alby usually accompanies him on except that he’s been a little distracted.

Nick’s gaze drops to the sleeping bag and pillow in Alby’s arms, and Alby mentally curses the sense of order that had led him to sleep in the same place since the beginning, meaning that now any kind of rearrangement looks unusual.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asks, brow furrowed.

Alby doesn’t lie to Nick. He doesn’t lie in general, really, but especially not to Nick because the Glade doesn’t function if communication between them breaks down. But this... he’s not ready to tell Nick what Newt suspects. It’s still only a suspicion, one that could easily be proved wrong, and he’s not ready to damage morale that badly without proof.

So he lies, or at least omits part of the truth. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Newt’s just in a mood, and I’m keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s not gonna be out of it in the Maze tomorrow.” There’s no point in trying to say it like he’d do this for any other Runner, not with the way he and Newt have been bound since the early days by something still unvoiced, but he can still pretend at least a little.

Nick knows there’s no truth to that last part at least, but Alby knows how much time he spends picking his battles, so he’s not surprised when Nick just nods. “Sounds good. Don’t want him getting injured.”

“Yeah. Sorry for ditching nighttime rounds.”

“It’s fine. You might have to take the Greenie tomorrow if the supply meeting goes over, so we’ll call it even.”

It’s an empty threat, given that Alby’s most useful skills as a leader lie in allotment and record-keeping, but he takes the way out Nick’s offering him. “Fine.”

Nick nods. “Alright, go ahead. Deal with whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Thanks,” Alby says, and heads back to the space in the trees.

Newt looks up when he approaches, propping himself up on his elbows. He mostly just looks tired now, which is an improvement at least, even if it doesn’t do wonders for Alby’s confidence in sending him out into the Maze in the morning. “Forgot you’re supposed to have a job to do. Wouldn’t have stolen you from Nick if I remembered.”

Alby spreads out his sleeping bag, laying down on top of it. It’s too warm in the Glade to sleep inside it, which kind of feels like an oversight on someone’s part. “I ran into him on the way back, it’s fine. He’s threatening to make me take over with the Greenie if the meeting tomorrow runs long, but it’s probably an empty threat. Hopefully.”

Newt worms his way close enough to bump Alby with a shoulder. “Be nice to the new kid, Albert.”

“I’m trying, he just talks so much.”

“Can’t be worse than Kuo.”

Alby snorts. “You haven’t met him.”

“I met him the first full day he was here!”

“For three minutes! And it’s not like he even asks a ton of questions, I can either answer those or deflect fine, but he’ll just say things and I have no idea how I’m supposed to react to them.”

“I’m sure he’s just scared.”

“Yeah, I know. I think he’s gonna get absorbed into the Builders soon enough anyway, he’s already halfway there.”

“That helps.”

“Yeah. I keep hoping that Nick will get that I’m shit at this, but I guess sometimes there aren’t other options.”

Newt shrugs. “You’re good at plenty of other things, and you haven’t killed a Greenie yet.”

“I don’t think I like ‘yet’ in that sentence.”

“I’m confident in your ability to not kill a Greenie. Better?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alby readjusts his pillow, doing his best not to acknowledge the root under his head because proximity takes priority over comfort right now. “Sorry. Didn’t come back just to complain.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Took my mind off everything a little.”

“Are you gonna be okay tomorrow?” Alby asks, knowing as he does that it’s probably only going to make Newt mad, but he can’t just not ask.

Sure enough, there’s a bite to it when Newt says, “I’ll be fine,” that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Don’t get pissed off at me for caring about you. It’s just dangerous out there, and—“

“Yeah, I have figured that out, actually. I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t, don’t start acting like I did.”

“No, you just—“ Newt stops himself and sighs, looking away. “I’m sorry. I’m… yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alby reaches out and interweaves his fingers with Newt’s, half-expecting him to pull away and ready to let go if he does. He doesn’t.

When he wakes before dawn with Newt’s face pressed into his shoulder, Alby thinks he could almost be happy staying in the Glade like this, but only almost. One of them has to believe they’ll get out of here, and if that means he has to play at optimism for a while, it’s a role he’ll do his best to handle.

#nalby #Alby #Newt #Favorite

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